


Sandstorm

by avelird



Category: Elite (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, First Kiss, Half-Sibling Incest, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24377395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avelird/pseuds/avelird
Summary: Valerio is 16, Lu is almost 15. They stuck in Riyadh, and there's a sandstorm coming.
Relationships: Lucrecia "Lu" Montesinos Hendrich/Valerio Hendrich, Lucrecia "Lu" Montesinos Hendrich/Valerio Montesinos Hendrich
Kudos: 29





	Sandstorm

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really REALLY bad at being my own beta.  
> Hope, you'll like it, anyway.

He was bored to death, he should never come to Saudi Arabia, it was a very bad idea. He had to talk to his mother, convince her somehow, pretend it wasn't his fault. Molly, what molly? He just happened to be there. In fact, he just came. Sometimes, you have to hold it back, Lu's words, but it seemed he wasn't able to comprehend this simple truth. They were alone almost all the time: no girls, no boys, no alcohol, no — god forbid!! — drugs. Wanna be decapitated? I have diplomatic immunity. Well, want your friend to be decapitated? What friend, he wanted to ask. I don't have any friends in this school de puta madre. Friends who can't even cover you when you're smoking a harmless cigarette, not even a joint, and who then drag you to classes?

Old fashioned parties, bright jewels, dim eyes, gold, hookah fumes: boring, boring, boring. It was so much better before when they attended the official meetings with Lu, whispering in the corners, stealing candy and drinking champagne secretly, running down the empty halls and marble stairs, playing hide-and-seek behind enormous velvet curtains, making all the swearing echo in the cold and hostile cabinets. Golden age. Now Lu was interested in ambassadors and their wives, learned to perform a cat high heels walk, combed her hair, bought a lot of appropriate dresses “de gala”, studied arabic, and bored everybody with the conversations of foreign policy. Dad was proud as hell.

A lot of restrictions didn't help. No, you can’t go there alone, sir, I’m very sorry. Let’s get back to your parents, sir. What the hell? He wasted the best year of his life, sweet sixteen, always on the verge of something ridiculously dangerous, always horny. He almost started to study, madre mía...  
  
He caught himself at walking along the long hall with panoramic windows for ten minutes straight. No wonder, all he could see was a desert, yellow and dusty like a Mad Max movie landscape.  
  
_“Give me command!”_  
  
Valerio chuckled. Here we go again. He went through the half opened door of Lu’s room watching her watching the same thing for the fifth time? The sixth? He looked down at the spanish subtitles. “A tiempo, Césare”. He could swear her lips were moving in sync with the actors on the screen.  
  
“Why are you watching this again?”  
  
She shuddered being caught off guard, gave him a very unpleasant glance.  
  
“What?”  
“Why are you watching this again?”

He entered the room and made himself comfortable in the chair near her bed. Everything was in a perfect order in contrast with a mess of his own room: a pile of school books on the table, her pins and combs of different size and colors, framed photos. What for? She paused a video with a sigh which had to symbolize her irritation.

“I like it that’s why I’m watching it. Anything else?”

“Explain, I’m curious.”

Lucrecia sighed again.

“You’re bored, and there’s no one to bother except me.”

“I'm bored that's why I want you to talk to me, that's different.”

He could see she very much doubted his words. She gathered her long shiny hair into the pony tail, released it, tucked her bare legs under herself, and turned to Valerio as if to give him a lecture. 

“When you're named after Lucrezia Borgia it means something, right? Like you have to watch a series about her.”

“So it's out of vanity. I knew it.”

She shushed him, and Valerio chuckled. She looked so childish, so cute, wearing her silk pijamas, he just couldn't help but tease her. He didn't know when the changes had started: she was his honeybunch, sugar plum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin and sweety pie like two days ago. Now look at that: fifteen is coming, little cat, willing to become an adult as soon as possible. Lucrecia was so determined he started to believe that. 

“Sin duda, you don't get it, you know that drugs and alcohol is a short path to become a degenerate, don't you?”

“I've been sober for two month straight, in case you haven't noticed.”

“I like this story,” Lu said, pretending she hadn't heard his last words. “Powerful family, Spaniards like us, the games of thrones which was really real. One may learn a lot from them.”

“And you wanna be like them.”

“Kind of.” Lu sit very straight, ready to defend her attitude. ”Everyone has its own way to divertirse, hermanito. Mine isn't the worst.”

“Want me to join you?”

She gave him a pretty skeptical look.

“I watch in english with spanish subtitles, sure you can read that fast?”

As an answer he crawled into the bed, messing with the fine line of small pillows, and watching something about some wedding and Napels.

“This dude has such a drama queen face,” Valerio muttered.

“If you're going to comment every move, you better leave right now.”

He obeyed and fell silent. Valerio wanted to say he was bored in a five minutes, wanted to stand up, rearrange books on the shelf, go through her stuff in the drawer, make her nervous, in short. The problem was that, in fact, he wanted to sit near her like that watching the illusion of 15th century, shitty decorations on the screen. He recognized Florence Cathedral, Santa Maria del Fiore, it was a beautiful place indeed. Lu always loved Italy, they traveled there every once in a while. 

“You're nothing like this Lucrezia, blue eyes blonde, seriously?”

“It doesn't matter. Besides, I don't want to be exactly like her, women didn't have any freedom back then. You think I would be glad being stuck at home all day long for the rest of my life? Forced to marry some asshole?”

She made a noise, and Valerio decided to skip this part of a conversation, he didn't actually know what to say. Her feminist mode was adorable and funny, and the last thing he wanted was to get himself in trouble for a totally harmless joke. Maybe, she was right after all?.. Though he couldn't imagine anybody bossing Lu around, she had learned to do it herself long time ago, everybody was pretty happy to obey, except their father, probably.

“If you're Lucrezia what does it make me?” Valerio asked, nodding at the screen. “Am I Cesare?”

“What? You?” This time she was unmistakably amused. She paused the video, gave him a look, then gave it the screen again like watching some tennis game, finally, giggled. “Sorry, Val, you're nothing like Cesare.”

“Why not? We can recreate this very scene: me, wrapped in a medieval shirt-sheet, suffering from all the pins you poke me. Easy.”

She burst out laughing.

“No, Val, that's not my point. Cesare is so cool...”

“And I'm not.”

Now it sounded really offensive. She shook her head, and gave him another very unpleasant look: does she pity him, or what?

“You're very cool but not like this. Cesare is super smart, he's a clever politician, I would like to be like him. Did you know that Machiavelli used him as a role model for his “Il Principe” book?”

“Who the fuck is Machiavelli?” Valerio asked on principle. Lu might think he was an imbécil, but he did know some things. Due to her, perhaps. 

“That's what I'm talking about.”

She pressed the button, though he lost his appetite. He took her hand, put it to his lips, said mockingly “my lady” (she rolled her eyes), and got out of the room. Who cares? Stupid TV show, not much in common with reality. Real Cesare Borgia couldn't be such a handsome jerk with dark curls, moreover, esa gentusa del arte... he could swear that actor wore a wig. He stopped at the mirror looking at his own face and dark curls. Well, let Lu play, he preferred to live, carpe diem, just like that. Fucking Saudi Arabia.

Suddenly it started to getting dark, but Valerio didn't get a chance to overthink it cause he immediately received two messages. The first was some warning written in Arabic, so he skipped it, the second one was from Dad.

_“Not gonna make it tonight, the sandstorm. Stay safe, don't go anywhere, look after your sister, you're in charge. I'll be back in the morning.”_

Look after your sister, you're in charge... It was so ridiculous, he wanted to scream. The fucking charge, it's incredible. He could almost see the message Dad had sent to Lu: _“Pls, look after Valerio, coraz ón, sorry for leaving him on you, hope, everything will be all right, come back asap. Xoxo, Dad.”_ He wondered whether Lu showed him a message or not, what if he asked... well, fuck it.

Valerio went upstairs, absentmindedly touching everything came in his way: an old clock, a statue (somebody's gift), weird masks brought from different countries of America Latina by his father. His favorite was la de Chile, of course, he accidentally broke it a few years ago, Lu helped him to make it whole again. Dad didn't notice and didn't care, anyway. He pushed the door leading into the bedroom, Lu's mother was off to Mexico, some business stuff, or whatever. Valerio hesitated, he didn't know what the hell he wanted there. A crumpled blanket was hanging from the wide poorly made bed. He played with the doors of a built-in giant wardrobe, opened them, watched carefully the row of jackets and shirts without any actual purpose. All of a sudden he came up with a genius idea, no a crazy one... no, definitely a genius one. He grabbed one of the blouse (beige, with lace, just for the record) off the rack. Why not? Without any other thoughts he put off his own T-shirt.

“My lady, let me offer thee a goblet of fine wine.”

“Valerio, I don't...” Lu looked at him, and he could tell it worked! She was amazed. Her eyes widened, it seemed she was ready to burst out laughing but then her look changed... she changed her mind, and he had no idea why, but smiled. “What are you doing?”

“Offering thee a goblet of wine.”

He entered the room, and slipped into the chair again, took a sip from his own glass as if to say: yeah, that simple. Hope, you don't mind.

“Where have you got that?”

“The cupboard.”

That was really simple question.

“Why are you wearing mom's blouse and a chain?”

“Now I'm cool too, what do you think?”

She looked at him with a strange expression in her eyes, then at his neck, at the chain, neck, again...

“Now you're weird.”

“Drink with me.”

“You're supposed to look after me while there's a sandstorm outside, aren't you?”

It was quite dark in the room, only the screen was shining, reflecting in Lu's eyes. 

“I'm looking, indeed, that's my design.”

“Why are you always looking for troubles?”

“On the contrary, now I'm avoiding troubles, this sand storm is a perfect cover. Seriously, Lu, it's just wine. You wanna be like them, don't you?” He nodded at the screen.

It was nothing but the truth. What is wine? After all, they are Spaniards, indeed, they're supposed to drink wine despite all the stupid laws of this very state. Then again, diplomatic immunity. Lucrecia took a glass from his hand, took a sip without a word, and winced.

“You bring the strongest rioja on purpose?”

“It's just rioja in there, believe me.”

It wasn't true, actually, and Lucrecia made a _“I_don't_believe_you”_ face.

“I solemnly swear. Or what shall I say?” He abruptly put his hand on his heart.

“Imbécil.” Lu said with a smile. “Wanna watch with me?”

“Then I need a whole bottle.”

Is it a right thing — to get his own sister who's gonna be fifteen soon drunk? — that is the question. Not that it was his intention. Though while drinking slowly his own wine (not his favorite drink, obviously), Lu finished her wine, asked him to pour another glass, finished it too quickly as well, and reached for a bottle.

“Lu, isn't it too much for you?”

Valerio stopped her grabbing her wrist with his fingers. Her hand felt hot and cold at the same time: dry summer heat of Madrid was nothing in comparison to torturing ardor of Riyadh. By the middle of April temperatures never fell below 32 C, the conditioner worked constantly. Valerio didn't know how he was going to make it to summer holidays.

“You drink too little, I compensate.”

Lu tried to shake his hand off, reached for the bottle, but lost control, and fell across his legs giggling. Turned around and sighed. It was a precious and rare moment: he was almost sober, and Lu seemed to be really drunk, neither of them had to pretend, had to be sensible, no audience, and plenty of time.

“You know I don't like wine.”

“You like everything that can make you drunk.”

It was very shrewd of her, but Valerio decided better not to comment. He reached for the bottle instead, poured his glass, and took a giant sip, almost a half at once. It would be way funnier if he could share that fun with Lu, wouldn't it? She made a resentful noise.

“Give me!”

He wanted to play with her, of course, he wanted, but these attempts weren't safe at all: wine spilled over the sheets would make Lu sober in a matter of seconds.

“Remember you don't like puking?” he said watching her chest going up and down with each sip.

“I remember you don't like it.”

“Why did they kiss, they are brother and sister, aren't they?”

This thought popped up in his mind all of a sudden, and Valerio didn't hesitate to put this issue on the table before it might be lost in the darkness. The clock on the table flashed: it was 10 pm. An eternity till the morning.

“You don't understand like I said.” Lu closed her eyes.

“What's your point?”

He put his hand on her eyes trying to feel sharp edges of the stars she was definitely observing while floating in her own darkness. 

“It's epic love, imbécil. I want to love like this.”

“Why epic?”

“Don't you get it?”

“I watched just one episode of this dumb...”

“You dumb!”

“... show, how can I say what's going on?”

“You haven't listened to me, have you? All these politic games, scheming...” With her eyes still closed she found his palm and squeezed as if to help him comprehend. “The constant watching your own back, waiting for the knife, or dagger, or poison. How can one love in such a mess? But they love each other no matter what, no profit, nothing external. So they can trust each other, like fully trust. Get it now?”

“It's just you like this hot Cesare guy.”

She sighed.

“I like Cesare himself. But this guy is hot, indeed. I like the concept of unconditional trust, ok?”

You can trust me, Valerio wanted to say but  bit his tongue. In this context it would sound weird,  wouldn't it? 

“Of course, I trust you, but that's different.” Lu said. Well, he seemed to said it out loud. The wine wasn't that disgusting anymore.

“'Cause he's cool, and I am not, I get it.”

“No, Val. You have no idea. You're cool too, you know it.” She talked slowly, every word was a small black pearl on her lips. “All your friends think so. All my friends! At home, not in here. But I can't put my trust in you.”

“You put yourself on me though.”

She laughed but said nothing. It definitely was a very dumb conversation. Valerio didn't know why but all of a sudden he felt rejected, and why on Earth he needed her approval after all? Something unimportant jumped into his mind: his birthday in Chile, November, he's sixteen now, Lu's with him in a club, private party, everything is hilarious, he's drunk and happy, he makes no sense, but Lu doesn't get it, sure, she's just fourteen and honest with all her virgin pina coladas and strawberry mojitos, having no clue, how unreal everything around them, sparks, people, smiles, music. They dance together like there's no tomorrow, he confuses the floor with the ceiling but it really doesn't matter. Well, and six month later she comes up with this “I can't put my trust in you” thing. What the fuck? She knows she's his everything, doesn't she? That he'll do anything for her? Alcohol and drugs have nothing to do with it. Two parallel worlds.

Without any clear idea of what he was doing Valerio got out of the blanket, Lu's arms and legs wrapped around him like vines, got to his feet, finished the bottle, and went to the hall. There was not enough entertainment in the heart of the desert but if you were lucky to live above the 30th floor you might enjoy one: to stay in front of the window and watch city lights. Months passed, and they got used to it: two wide roads, everlasting shining, commercial centers and avenues' lights. Valerio looked at the window trying to catch a glimpse of these lights. Where did they have to be? There was only rough darkness of a sandstorm.

“Are you mad at me?”

Lu came unnoticed, and hugged him from the back.

«No. Why?»

«Yeah, I see. Stop it, you're my best brother, ok?»

«You don't have another brother. A reliable one.»

That time he really bit his tongue. Are you a girl, she could ask, but she was too much of a feminist. She hugged him tighter, so short. Whether he'd be taller, or not? And Lu? She began to wear high heels, their height difference was a surprise every time.

“Stop it.” She whispered, and took away her hands. “I can't see a shit.”

“Sandstorm. It'll be over soon.”

They felt silent. It was wine, probably, cause Valerio didn't know how long the silence actually lasted. He wanted to say something. It was like it cost them an eternity to stand there and watch. Like if you opened the window you'd face a wall, and there would be nothing behind that wall. A solid nothingness. He sensed a movement, and he was actually going to say something, but Lu's tenacious fingers grabbed his chin and dragged it down. He didn't get a chance to open his eyes, and started to kiss her back. Her lips were soft and stiff at the same time, hands pulled him closer, and what choice did he have? He hold her tighter cause it was the one and only solution of this equation, pulled her closer without thinking. Something to press them against?.. He was just kissing her back, thinking a bit after all: was that her first time? She didn't tell me... There was a sound, and he finally comprehended the darkness would fail, and then it would be light again, and Lu es su hermana, medio hermana, pero todavía hermana who can't put her trust in him, especially when he was drunk. And then he finally realized what happened. 

Lu was out of breath looking at him with bright dark eyes.

“You got drunk.”

She giggled, and he couldn't help but smirked.

“You got me drunk.”

“You were very helpful.”

She smiled and petted him on the cheek. Valerio tilted his head, and kissed her palm because... it felt natural? Because he must? Lucrecia sighed, and kissed him on the lips again, slowly, deliberately. Like she was saying something. Maybe, she was, indeed.

Valerio wanted to tell her something, but he couldn't. Lu pulled away. They stood in darkness as if they were waiting... again, he was willing to say something, but it was too late. She dropped her hands, pulled away for real this time. Valerio watched her staggering back to her room. Something flashed, and he realized it was an empty bottle on the floor. He picked it, and walked away, slowly. He had to hide it from their father.


End file.
